


A Hundred Sunsets, One Sky

by 06seconds_left



Series: A Hundred Sunsets, One Sky [1]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-26
Updated: 2011-09-26
Packaged: 2017-10-24 01:23:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/257301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/06seconds_left/pseuds/06seconds_left
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three people left the island. Five came back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hundred Sunsets, One Sky

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Sybil](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/4592) by Flora Rheta Schreiber. 



**i.**

The dreams come first.

Sora wakes gasping for breath; he has no idea who he is, or why he’s there, or where he’s from and for one terrifying moment, he can’t even be sure he's real.

 _(sometimes he wakes convinced that he’s someone else, someone with no face and no name)_

He wills himself to calm down and eventually, the pieces fall back into place. His breathing steadies and his heart stops trying to hammer its way out of his chest. When Sora looks down to his hands, the Keyblade comes readily, responding to his need like it always has before, and the feel of cool metal against his palm reassures him in a way no memories can.

Still, he can’t help but wonder.

 **ii.**

Riku’s winning again.

When Sora finally goes down, landing on his back in a heap on the hot sandy beach, he sighs loudly. “Gah! I hate this!”

Riku walks over, sighing, and sits down next to him. “You’re slacking off, Sora.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, waving a dismissive hand.

“I’m serious,” his friend says, leaning over so that their gazes meet, deep blue and soft green. “We have to keep training. You never know when we’ll have to fight again.”

 The solemnity of those words sends an irritated prickle across his skin. The sun is pleasantly warm, the sky bright and clear, the ocean is lapping close by, rocking their boats gently where they’re tied to makeshift ports; it’s a great day and his friend really needs to relearn how to loosen up.

Sora sits up, words already forming on his tongue and one hand outstretched to give Riku a friendly pat on the back—

And then, he’s sitting up in bed, blinking in the darkness.

It’s been hours since the sun set; from the window, he can see the night stretching out above the town, can see the starts twinkling peacefully. He tries to move but stops immediately when his limbs start screaming at him. It’s strange; his thoughts are swirling in a slow, thick haze and his body is completely exhausted.

That, and he can’t quite remember how he got into bed.

 **iii.**

It gets a little worrying after a while. Sometimes he finds himself halfway up a coconut tree with no idea why he’s climbing it; sometimes he finds himself half-buried in sand at the edge of the island, his toes inches away from the water, his breath coming out in short, painful gasps. When he looks out the window, he sees the night fading into dusk, the horn of a fading train blaring in the distance.

Distantly, Sora wonders if he’s still asleep. Maybe they never really made it back home. Or maybe they never even left. Maybe the whole adventure was just a story they made up at one of the campouts.

Maybe all this is just another dream.

 **iv.**

He lies on the beach, basking in the afternoon heat and the familiar warmth of sand against his back. The sky is bright blue, the sun a happy orange and he thinks, right, this is what home feels like.

Then his vision flashes bright white and Sora flinches away, closing his eyes in reflex. When he opens them again, the sky is painted in gloomy watercolours, shade after shade of black and blue. A bruised city landscape yawns wide around him, the streets echoing in silence and he thinks, I remember this place.

But he doesn’t remember looking at it like this, doesn’t remember watching the streets overflow with Shadows, doesn’t remember fighting them.

He fought Xemnas here, but the person striking him now isn’t the Organization Leader. Short silver hair, pale skin, black blindfold—it’s—

“Sora?”

He jerks upright, nearly banging their heads together in the process. Ducking, Sora shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts as Riku straightens hurriedly. “Oops. Sorry.”

His friends shrugs, his shoulders lifting casually. “I hope you’re not planning on sleeping here tonight. You’ll freeze your butt off.”

With a start, Sora realizes that the sun is already gone and it was quickly getting cold. “Wow. When did it get this late?”

Riku snorts in disbelief. “Come on. Let’s head back.”

Sora gets up, dusting his pants and follows his friend to the small wooden boats. As the other boy goes to untie the knots holding the boat safe, he hesitates. “Riku. Did we ever, you know, fight? At that Nobody world?”

Even from where he’s standing, Sora can see Riku go completely still, his shoulders tensing as his fingers freeze on the rope. Silence stretches on; Sora’s holding his breath, waiting for an answer as his heart thumps madly in his chest.

Finally, Riku exhales, but the strain in his shoulders doesn’t leave. “Of course we didn’t.”

 _“Liar.”_

That takes them both by surprise. He sees Riku turn around, green eyes wide even as Sora is reeling backwards in shock; he can feel his mouth moving to form words in someone else’s voice, but he can’t quite hear them.

Reality swirls around him and Sora blacks out.

 **v.**

There are strange bruises all over Riku’s arms. Sora wonders at them, and gives the older boy a playful swat. “Been picking fights with Tidus again?”

Honestly, he’s expecting Riku to hit him right back, a sharp jab in the side accompanied by a light, “Been _winning_ them.” Instead, all Riku does is lift his shoulders in a half-hearted shrug and says, “It was nothing.”

Suddenly, it occurs to him that the bruises were distinctly keyblade-shaped. Something cold drops into his stomach, freezing his insides. “Riku.” When his friend doesn’t turn around, he reaches out a hand and grabs the bruised arm. “Riku.”

At that point, Riku does turn and the look on his face strained, like a mask melting away to reveal the true expression underneath. “Just forget about it, okay?”

But he can’t, not when he doesn’t remember it to begin with.

 **vi.**

“—so if you ever need to talk, just let me know.”

“No,” he says stubbornly and realizes that he doesn’t know what they’re talking about. “Wait. What?”

Kairi smiles timidly. “Hello, Sora.” And then her expression shifts, lips deepening into a wider grin. “Welcome back!” she says cheerily, and offers him a half-empty glass of juice.

 **vii.**

One afternoon, he wakes up underwater. Panic seizing him by its long, sharp claws, Sora flails and wastes priceless seconds before he can orient himself to swim upwards in swift urgent strokes—but he’s not fast enough. He runs out of air long before he reaches the surface and wonders, fleetingly, if this is it; ironic that he survived falling castles, collapsing worlds, demons and shadows and alike, only to succumb to death by drowning.

Suddenly, a determined arm wraps itself under his shoulders and drags him back to the surface, dumping him unceremoniously onto the beach. Sora coughs and gags, squinting through the sudden sunlight to find Kairi standing nearby, hands clasped across her chest, and Riku crouched on the sand, glaring daggers at him.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he demands furiously, green eyes bright and angry.

“I don’t know,” he says between gasp of breath. “I don’t know.”

Kairi moves closer and crouches next to him. “It’s okay, Sora. You’re okay now,” she murmurs soothingly and reaches out a hand to pat his back.

He flinches away from it, his body moving in reflex and he stumbles onto his back, shaking. When Sora looks up, Kairi’s features are etched in surprise and for a moment, he is so furious his vision goes completely white. Heat flares in his chest, sending fire up his throat and he opens his mouth to yell—

And then the anger goes out, leaving him numb with shock as he stares open-mouthed at his two friends.

Behind him, the sun touches the horizon.

 **viii.**

Another bizarre week passes before Sora finally learns the truth.

“Roxas?” he echoes, disbelief coating the familiar name.

Kairi nods. “He’s inside you, Sora, just like Namine is living inside me.”

“But,” he sputters, confused, “but you said—I thought he, uh, _became_ me after we beat Xemnas.”

“That’s what we thought too,” Riku speaks up from where he’s leaning at the doorway, “but I don’t think that’s what happened. I guess it’s more like, now you two are sharing the body, just like you’re sharing the heart.”

Sora frowns. “I don’t get it.”

“We talk at night,” Kairi says quietly. “She says it gets kind of lonely sometimes so every now and then, I let her take control. In exchange, she shares her memories with me.” She looks up, meeting his gaze. “I think that’s what you should do, Sora.”

“Huh?”

“Talk to him,” she says. “Talk to Roxas. Try it.”

“What, right now?”

“Yeah. Go on.”

Sora looks at Kairi, who is watching him hopefully, her fingers intertwined with each other; he looks at Riku who has retreated once more to the doorframe, his expression wary and guarded.

Sighing, he closes his eyes. “Roxas.”

Silence.

“Roxas. I, uh. I wanna talk to you.”

If possible, the silence this time is loud and obstinate.

 He opens his eyes, feeling more than a little silly. “I don’t think its working.”

Kairi sighs. “Well, it was worth a try.”

 **ix.**

Every night, Sora sees a hundred different sunsets. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees dusk creeping down onto Twilight Town, the orange sun spilling across the towers and paved roads of the small world. He hears laughter, too; there are two voices _(then three)_ then one, then four. It’s never quite the same, but now, he recognizes the dreams for what they are:

Memories.

When he recalls the battle with Riku—the strange matches with blue bats in a crowded yellow town square, the desolate rooms of an empty castle, the ice-creams shared on the clock tower—it makes his heart ache; as if now, his heart is compensating for all the times Roxas could not truly feel, back then, when he hurt the most.

Being betrayed, being used, being forgotten. Was all that because of him? Was it simply because Roxas happened to be his Nobody?

“No wonder you’re mad at us,” he mutters quietly.

At the back of his mind, Sora thinks he can hear someone mumble a reply.

The words are too soft to make out, but the hint of a response heartens him. Sitting up in bed, he crosses his legs and closes his eyes. “Roxas, I don’t know if you’re listening but…well. I just want to say something. So hear me out, okay?” Sora breathes in, trying to come up with something appropriate, with the words that would somehow make everything right again.

But it’s just not possible. Sora can’t go back in time and change what happened; he can’t undo what’s been done, no more than he can bring back the dead ( _the faded_ ) or the memories people lost. This is the way things are and this is the way things are going to be.

So he sighs, and says, “I’m sorry.”

As expected, there is no reply.

 **x.**

It’s not easy to find; since the flavor is only just gaining popularity, not every shop has it yet. Sora spends a good portion of his day running all over town before he finally finds what he’s looking for. Afterwards, he dashes off to the highest hilltop he can find and plops down in a spot in direct view of the setting sun.

With careful fingers, Sora unwraps the ice-cream and holds it up to the setting sun, light blue against deep orange. “To Roxas. I hope that one day, we can be friends,” he says and waits.

When he looks up again, night has fallen. The sky is clear and he can see a hundred stars twinkling at him. A cool breeze sweeps by, ruffling the grass and leaves; when he sticks out his tongue, he can taste the ocean. Sora smiles a little, and then bursts into laughter as the relief washes over him.

In his hand, all that’s left is a small wooden stick.

It’s a start.


End file.
